Ghost Hunt
by Space Mercutio
Summary: Due to an unhappy set of circumstances, Yukine finds himself lost in the music wing of his high school. Who's this guy in the jersey? Why are his hands so sweaty? What's all this about poltergeists and ghosts? And what's a Necromancer? All too soon, Yukine finds himself asking these questions and more as he is pulled into the world of the Paranormal Research club. AU.
1. The Paranormal Research Club

You would think walking into the third music room meant host club, or by some stretch of the imagination, some musical group. Somehow modern culture has twisted our thinking here in Japan so much that a music room is a place for boys' love. Don't ask me why, or how, for that matter.

Sometimes I worry the god of bad luck has cursed me, however, as my Music Room Three experiences ended up being the headquarters to some spooky guy in a jersey (with awful sweaty hands, I might add).

Um, let me move back a little. Sorry to cold open on you like this, reader. I didn't mean it. By the way, I'm Yukine - but I was really rather surprised by this guy in the jersey, so I wasn't thinking straight.

An hour ago, it was still class and I wanted nothing more than to get out. My first day in second-year term, all I really wanted to do was find another member of the Go-home club, preferably one of my friends, and do just that - go home. I couldn't get out of the room fast enough; I guess I didn't really mention how hot it was. Although in trying to find Kazama, one of my buddies, I ended up closer to the music wing. As I was not in the least bit artsy, I'd never visited this wing, and I realized I needed to ask for directions to get out.

If you don't already know me, reader, I'm socially awkward sometimes, and I especially didn't want to get into a situation where I looked like I was _joining_ a club. After all, here it's considered rude to stay at a club you don't intend to join. Naturally, I didn't want to look like I was joining some band, but it appeared that Music Rooms 1  & 2 were empty for today. By the racket 3 was making, though, it was either empty and possessed or full and possessed. One of those two, take your pick.

I took a long time contemplating the effects of my opening the door in front of me. Suddenly thinking better of it, I turned around and screamed like a little girl as a third-year girl barreled out of the door like a hurricane, past me, muttering curses under her breath.

"And I'm done with you _and_ your sweaty hands! Eugh!" she grumbled, which is how I found out that Jersey Guy had sweaty hands. Jersey Guy was, in fact, standing in the doorway in her wake.

"Don't ask about her. She's in a bad mood," the Jersey Man said. I had to agree with Storm Girl behind me, I could smell him from here. Or was it the old-looking wardrobe I could spot behind him?

Jersey Guy seemed totally fine with me being there. I wondered why-it wasn't like I was an active member of his club...

...Unless he thought I was going to join his club.

I admit, the thought of joining a band seemed pretty okay compared to Sweaty Hand Jersey Guy's club.

He wasn't currently begging for me to join his club, so I figured it was okay to proceed with: "Do you know how to get to Homeroom 2C, room of the Go Home club-"

"Yato," he said, offering his hand and interrupting me. In shaking it, I got confirmation that, yes, officer, his hands _were_ sweaty. Just what was going on in that room? I was starting to have thoughts of making a break for it, like Storm Girl. "Can you help me for a mo'?" Yato continued, grabbing my arm and dragging me inside to whatever horrors awaited in the club room.

* * *

The first thing I saw was the chest of drawers. It stood smack in the center of the room, unmoving, all drawers open. It looked like a tornado had swept through, but whatever loud noises I'd heard coming from inside earlier seemed to have stopped. The room around it was dark, so it was basically given a spotlight from the window, the only source of light in the room besides a few candles.

Come to think of it, the room was very dark for a music room. Thick curtains surrounded almost every window, except for the aforementioned unobstructed one. Every corner was lit by a dim candle.

Also, it smelled like Jersey Guy's hands.

"Mr. Yato..." I started.

"It's just Yato. No, wait, actually, it's Lord Yato. Yeah, I like that. Call me Lord Yato-"

I interrupted him. "What did you need from me exactly? I...crud, I'm late for homeroom."

 _THUMP._

All the drawers in the chest shut loudly. No one had touched it. I felt chills running down my back.

"I need a member for my club," Yato said calmly, striding up to the chest and staring. The chest of drawers began to shake noisily.

I tried to ask what he meant without peeing myself. Whatever was happening now was seriously spooking me.

"After all," the ever-surprising Jersey Guy continued, "I can't run a club if I'm the only member." He inhaled deeply, but was stopped by one of the drawers flying towards him. He stepped to the side with ease. I began to sweat bullets.

"Wh-what kind of club is this, exactly?" I choked out.

The chest of drawers was becoming louder and louder. It was starting to hurt my ears, and I had to shout.

Yato ignored me. Now able to inhale fully, he struck the chest with his palm. The chest seemed to ripple, and something invisible hit the wall, then exploded violently. In its wake, one drawer flew straight towards my face.

"Tell me," Yato said, still extremely calm. He snatched the drawer out of the air, stopping it in front of my nose, and setting it down without even looking at me. "Tell me, do you believe in ghosts?"

* * *

I didn't believe in ghosts. I hadn't, for most of my life. But the explanation this Yato guy was giving me was seriously making me rethink it all.

"This is the Paranormal Research club. We - actually, _I -_ research ghosts and other spectres, and more importantly, expulse them. What you just saw was a poltergeist, hiding in that chest of drawers. We heard the Philosophy club was having trouble with it, so we borrowed it.

"Unfortunately, as you saw, Tomone just walked out on me during the most important part of the job. Luckily, it was a low-level spirit, and I was able to handle it all by myself, but I'll need another member if I'm going to keep doing this stuff. If a stronger spirit comes along, I'm not much use by myself. I'd need a Regalia."

"You've lost me..." I muttered helplessly.

"You don't happen to be dead already, right?" Yato said, looking hopefully at me. I stared back, confused. "Apparently not. Thing is, I'm a Necromancer. I use the powers of the undead to kill these spirits. But I have to form a contract with these undead people, and it's not very often that people become undead - it's complicated - and Tomone was the only one I had a contract with. And she was _so hot, too_!"

I decided this guy was both a creep and delusional, so I started to walk out of the room before I could hope to understand any of this stuff.

"Wait!" Yato protested. "At least promise to join my club!" he said, following me out the door.

I began to walk faster. "I just _met_ you! And all I wanted to do was go home!"

* * *

I lost Yato somewhere on the way out. Either way, I was headed home without him following me, thank goodness. What a weird place.

A Paranormal Research club? That's the kind of thing you only see in movies. Poltergeists and ghosts? That had to be a trick, right?

I wasn't looking where I was going.

A train sounded in the distance.

Necromancers and the undead? Surely he was delusional.

I still wasn't looking where I was going.

I came close to a train crossing.

And contracts? This guy was just making stuff up, right? But then, what exploded? Why did the drawers fly everywhere? It's not like there was a bomb or anything - I didn't see a single hint of anything!

I didn't hear the train. I stepped in front of the automatic crossing guard without seeing it.

The train didn't stop.

The train collided with me head-on. I don't believe a single part of me survived, but I was also dead before I was able to figure that out.

I died on the night of August 31, hit by a train.

That was when the weird part started.

* * *

My eyes snapped open. _I don't want to die!_

I could feel my feet. _Did I die? Am I okay? What's happening?_

I could feel my hands, too. I wiggled them. _I'm terrified! What is going on here?_

Something was uncomfortable beneath me. I sat up. _The last thing I remember is not wanting to die..._

I looked down. I was seated on the train tracks. _Did I survive the train collision?_

I was also five meters from my dead, horribly twisted, and unrecognizable corpse.

I vomited. It was translucent.

Right then and there, I realized that Yato was right. And more importantly...

...I was an undead.


	2. Dead Alive

_I need to find Yato._

I could still taste vomit around the corners of my mouth. The night seemed darker than it was before. I had an inexplicable feeling that if I didn't do something now, I'd see a fate worse than death.

Trying to remember everything Yato had explained to me, I picked myself up and rushed to the school. About half an hour ago, I had left the school. Surely Yato would still be there.

" _I use the powers of the undead to kill these spirits."_

I ran faster. The faster I could get there, the more likely I could catch him if he was still in school.

" _I have to form a contract with these undead, and it's not very common for a person to become undead…"_

I was running faster than a track star. I could see the school now.

" _I'd need a Regalia."_

I burst into the school, which was now dark. Sprinting as fast as I still could, I almost broke the Paranormal Research club's door off its hinges.

Yato was seated at a table, which had taken the place of the chest of drawers from earlier. Yato's neck was bent over a journal, and he was scribbling something in it with a frown.

"Yato! I need to make a contract with you!" I cried, now out of breath.

He sighed. "Thanks to you, the club's budget got cut, _and_ I'm still the only member."

"...Huh?"

"You look a little pale," he observed.

"Didn't you hear me?" I yelled. "I said I wanted to make a contract!"

"Oh, sure, just like the rest of them. Where's your hidden camera?"

"Yato, _I'm dead!_ "

Yato turned all the way in my direction. "Yeah, like I haven't heard that one... _oh_."

* * *

"If you're going to form a contract with me, we're going to need an object to bind you to," Yato said, looking around the room.

"Bind?" I asked.

"Basically, we put your spirit in something. Preferably something we can use as a weapon. We can't go around beating up ghosts with a pillow, now can we?"

"I guess not…?" If anything, _that_ at least made some kind of weird sense to me.

"We're going to have to be quick about this," he muttered, tapping his pockets. "You're not exactly fading slowly."

"Huh?" I looked down. I could see the outline of a hardwood floor through my shoe. Cold twinges of panic surged through me.

"Ah, but luck is on your side!" he announced. "Not only is the greatest Necromancer Yato here, but we have found something to bond you to!" Something in his hand glinted in agreement.

"A pocket knife?" I said in disbelief.

"Listen, do you want to become a ghost or something?"

"Not especially."

"Then repeat after me. 'I, whatever my name is…'"

"I, Yukine..." I echoed.

"'Wishing to remain in this world…'"

"Wishing to remain in this world…"

"'Hereby bind my soul to Lord Yato…'"

" _Lord_ Yato?"

"Just say it."

I rolled my eyes. "Hereby bind my soul to Lord Yato…"

"'And bind my body to the object in his hand.'"

"And bind my body to the object in his hand."

I blinked. No flash of light, no cymbal crash, just me, but not see-through.

"I now name your bodily form: Yukine; and your spirit form: Sekki."

This time there was a flash of light. Yato looked at the pocket knife, and suddenly he was looking at me. I yelped.

"Don't panic," Yato said. "Your spirit is inside the knife."

"I-is this permanent?" I cried.

"No, no," he laughed. "You make an ugly pocket knife."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence." I muttered, and then I was out of the knife.

"You'll be in your human form most times," Yato explained. "The only time you'll be in the knife is when we have to fight ghosts. Just know that normal people can't see you in your human form, unless you make a really loud noise or something like that. If you remember, Tomone was making quite the racket earlier, but you never actually saw her leave."

I realized he was right. I just took it for granted that Tomone left, _and_ I almost forgot about her completely afterwards.

"Anyway, now that you belong to me, your purpose is to hunt ghosts. Don't worry, though, I'm a good master." He smiled. "I've been doing this stuff since I was born."

"Since you were born?"

"Yeah. Necromancy might be a lost art, but I had the good fortune to be born to a family that still carries on the tradition. You're in good hands."

I felt something on the back of my neck. I thought for a second, and then realized what it was.

"Yeah, good _sweaty_ hands."

* * *

We both slept in the club room that night. I don't think the school officials check the rooms anyway, although Yato was a good hider and they probably wouldn't find either of us unless they had a sixth sense for the undead.

When I woke up, it took me a little to realize what happened last night. My eyes widened. _My family! They must be horrified!_

I was an only child, but I was what my parents put the majority of their life into. To find their only child dead-it would kill them.

Yato was pushing the chest of drawers from yesterday over to the doorway. "It's free of spirits, just like you asked! I'm afraid one drawer was a little banged up in the confrontation, but it's still a quality chest for its condition!"

I sat, not knowing how to feel about the necromancer who seemingly didn't think that the little dead boy had parents, parents who were undoubtedly grief-stricken and desperate.

A voice from outside - probably the Philosophy club rep - said, "Thanks. Five yen, right?"

"You bet!" Yato beamed. The coin traded hands, the Philosophy club rep left with his chest, and Yato turned around, all smiles. "We're rich, Yukine! Rich! ...Hey, what's wrong?"

"Yato, it's my parents. They must be horrified! I have to let them know I'm okay!"

"...Oh. That." Yato looked away. "Figures. Yukine, I don't think you should see them. It's not going to be pretty."

"What is that supposed to mean? Why shouldn't I go see my parents? They're worried, and I'm going!" I ran out of the club room, not hearing what Yato said from behind me.

* * *

 _The last time I walked this route, I was killed._

What a surreal thought. All the streets seemed the same, like no boy had ever died here. Even the train showed cold indifference to the undead wandering around its stomping grounds.

My house looked the same on the outside, too, except for one thing. The door had been left unlocked in my parents' grief.

I opened the door and walked inside without taking off my shoes. Inside, my mother was crying on the sofa. My dad was trying to comfort her, but he didn't look much better. The air was thick with loss.

"Mom? Dad? It's me, Yukine."

No response. Mom kept crying.

"Hello?" I said louder. "It's me, Yukine!"

Nothing.

" _Just know that normal people can't see you in your human form, unless you make a really loud noise or something like that."_

Of course. "Mom! Dad! I'm alive!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

Still nothing. My heart skipped a beat. That was the loudest I could muster. Why couldn't they -

"It's because you were too close to them. If someone believes you're dead, they can't see you."

I whirled. Yato stood in the doorway, looking at his pitiful undead servant, me.

"They're certain that you're not coming back," he continued. "If they saw you, it would break their minds. Then _they_ would be dead."

"That's so cruel!" I screamed.

"It's life. I don't know what to tell you."

I was crying. Somewhere along the line, the tears had started and they certainly didn't seem like they would stop. "Then…" I choked out.

"Then tell me...tell me everything's going to be okay," I sobbed.

"I can't make a promise like that."

"It doesn't have to mean anything," I begged. "Just say it."

Yato stared at me with equal parts hesitation and pity.

"It's going to be alright."


End file.
